


mistletoe’s a christmas thing, idiot

by pipercase



Category: South Park
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-16 23:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16963194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipercase/pseuds/pipercase
Summary: The holidays are stressful enough without the added layer of having a huge crush on your former arch nemesis.





	mistletoe’s a christmas thing, idiot

**Author's Note:**

> this is a secret santa gift for hannah, @loveymoons on tumblr! I hope you like it! :)

Kyle stared into the glow of his family’s menorah and felt a familiar surge of pride.

Without a doubt, Hanukkah was his favorite time of year. Connecting to your roots was such a humbling experience, and it filled him with joy to imagine his neighbors passing by and remembering the miracle at the heart of the holiday.

“Hey ma, remind me again why we eat latkes at Hanukkah? Someone was asking me about them today.” He said, speaking loudly enough that his mother could hear him from one room over.

Sheila straightened her back proudly and walked out of the kitchen, into the living room where Kyle and his brother were. There was nothing she loved more than telling her sons stories about Hanukkah, and they, in turn, loved watching her eyes ignite with a fierce love for her heritage when she did.

“Well, Kyle,” She said, “the story goes that a woman named Judith once stopped an army that came to her village from annihilating her people by distracting them with a plate of latkes.”

“That’s so badass!”

“Language, Ike.” Sheila chided.

“Right. Sorry.”

“Thanks, ma.” Kyle said. “I’ll be sure to tell my friend that story tomorrow.”

“Anytime, bubele.” She said, turning on her heel and heading back into the kitchen.

Kyle smiled. Amazingly, Cartman had been the one to ask him about latkes. He had been making such an effort lately to ask questions about Judaism, Hanukkah, and the various traditions both things entailed.

Kyle, Stan, and Kenny all agreed that this was his attempt at compensation for his behavior as a child, and Kyle was endlessly thankful for how Cartman had matured in recent years. Getting a new therapist (one who had never stepped foot in South Park, thank you very much) had, with time, helped him to make great progress in becoming a better person.

Kyle knew that he was also taking a variety of medications, which seemed to be doing their jobs as well. Whatever his prescriptions were, they were making him healthier, happier, and more sympathetic.

He was ripe with sociopathic tendencies and riddled with trauma, but at least now he’d shed most of his stupid social biases. He still acted like an asshole about 65% of the time, but Kyle hadn’t heard him say anything remotely racist since middle school.

In fact, in the last year or so he and Kyle had actually shared something closer to a genuine friendship than whatever pseudo-friendship, half rivalry they’d grown up on. It was...really nice.

He and Cartman had even begun hanging out without inviting Stan or Kenny, which was...kind of odd, but whatever. They’d play video games or binge watch some show they both liked, and one night they’d even fallen asleep on Cartman’s couch together.

Friendship was one thing, but it didn’t take Kyle long before he noticed that his feelings toward Cartman had blossomed into something entirely new and not at all platonic. He had never truly known panic until the day he realized he had a crush on Eric fucking Cartman.

It happened a few months before, over the summer, while Kyle was playing video games with Cartman in the latter’s living room. It had been a day where arguments were surprisingly scarce, and the two had been engaging more in playful banter than anything else.

“Haha! How’s it feel to be a fucking loser, Kyle?” Eric had jeered, still facing the TV.

It was such a typically Cartman thing to say, but somehow Kyle’s usual urge to start a fight with him had been replaced with the desire to force their lips together and kiss him until they were both out of breath.

Needless to say, this was shocking. He’d known that he didn’t feel the same way about Cartman that he used to, but he never thought he might actually come to view him as a romantic interest. For a long time, that would’ve been completely out of the question.

Kyle’s first thought was to resent the fact that he was proving so many people right. Kenny had called this months ago, and Stan hadn’t made any effort to disagree with him at the time. And they’d both been giving him a lot of weird looks whenever he and Cartman interacted.

“You’re flirting with him.” Kenny had announced matter-of-factly only a few days before, catching up with Kyle in the halls after witnessing a particularly heated debate between he and Cartman about the book they were reading in AP Lang.

“You fucking suck, Kenny.” Was all that Kyle said in return.

And now, Kyle realized, he was proving Kenny right. The idea of being so wrong about his own feelings left a bad taste in his mouth, but Kyle knew he wasn’t stupid. He was self aware enough to recognize what direction his heart was leading him in. 

He had a crush on Cartman, and there was no going back from that. It was hellish at times, like all crushes were, but Kyle knew he possessed more than enough strength to deal with it. Although, it did seem to him that the holidays had only made his feelings...not worse, exactly but certainly gooey-er. In the last few weeks, there had been times when he almost felt like a character in one of those dumb romantic comedies.

It was something about that intrinsic softness of the holidays, he thought. It was that unique glow of the season that had had him falling asleep to mushy thoughts about he and Cartman since Thanksgiving.

It was totally gay and so unlike him, but he just couldn’t shake this dumb fantasy he’d been having of he and Cartman snuggled up inside on a cold, snowy evening with a nice plaid blanket and a flickering fireplace....Jesus, this season was messing with his mind.The concept probably wasn’t realistic, but it was a comforting thing to picture when he closed his eyes at night. Something about the warmth he knew Cartman would exude. The image just felt safe.

The thing was, everyone knew that Cartman was kind of in love with Kyle. It was just a given to the people of South Park that Eric Cartman lived for the attention of Kyle Broflovski. And Kyle wasn’t stupid; he knew this too.

He knew that if he went over to Cartman’s house and told him how he felt, then they’d be a couple before the words were out of his mouth. Kyle could take control of the situation like he always did and kiss him, effectively ending the period of painful pining they were going through.

The only problem was that Kyle didn’t want to do any of that. He had spent so much time putting so much work into their friendship, and now he wanted Cartman to do some of the leg work. He wanted Cartman to initiate the next step; to confess first.

It would be one last demonstration of the fact that Cartman had changed for the better—it would show that he cared more about being with Kyle than he did about keeping up appearances or retaining his dignity. That was important.

It would be a difficult thing for someone like him to do, but Kyle wasn’t worried. He knew he’d get there eventually.

“Are you thinking about Eric Cartman?” Ike asked with a sneer, stretching a lanky arm up to poke Kyle on the nose.

The tone in his voice was snotty in a way Kyle was certain only pre-teens could pull off. He loved his brother unconditionally, but there had been more and more instances lately where his patience for him ran incredibly thin.

“What makes you say that?”

“Because you have a really dumb smile on your face.” Ike said proudly.

Kyle felt his face begin to heat up, and he could only imagine the pattern of red snaking across the bridge of his nose and on the tops of his ears.

“Ugh! I do not, Ike.”

“Yes, you do. You look like Stan does whenever he has a crush on someone.”

“Shut up!”

“Don’t worry,” Ike said smugly, “Cartman gets that same stupid smile whenever you two are together and he thinks no one’s looking.”

The thought was enough to send a wave of giddy embarrassment washing over Kyle. It was the specific feeling that only a crush could give someone, and it made his stomach do a few flips.

“Will you mind your own business for once?” He asked.

It was bad enough that Stan and Kenny had so clearly noticed his feelings for Cartman, but now his little brother was picking up on them too. Soon enough, everyone would probably be able to tell.

That thought lingered in his mind as the evening proceeded, and it was still on his mind as he trudged upstairs to bed that night. He was surprised to find, as he climbed into bed, that the idea didn’t bother him nearly as much as he expected it would have.

                                                  •••••

The next morning was the sixth day of Hanukkah, and Kyle awoke to the sight of falling snow outside his window.

He got ready in cheerful spirits, taking extra care to carefully smush all of his hair into his hat and make sure his eyes didn’t have bags under them. When he got the text alerting him that Stan and the others were in the driveway waiting to take him to school, he grabbed an apple and kissed his mom on the cheek before rushing out the door.

Kyle always used to be the one sitting shotgun while Stan drove, but in recent weeks he’d chosen to sit in the back with Cartman—sometimes even when Kenny wasn’t there, leaving an empty passenger seat up front.

He could see through the window that Cartman clearly hadn’t woken up in time to do get ready that morning, because his hair was a complete mess. It was sticking up in every direction, but Kyle thought, clandestinely, that he looked pretty adorable.

“That is the ugliest fucking sweater I’ve ever seen in my life, Cartman.” Kyle teased as soon as he got into the car, throwing his backpack on the ground.

Eric was wearing a dark green sweater with a big, brown kitten in a Santa hat plastered across the chest. He looked down at his outfit and then back up at Kyle.

“I’m sorry you don’t understand the concept of fashion, Kyle.”

“I understand that you’re a giant loser in a dumb sweater.” Kyle shot back.

In the rearview mirror, Stan sent him a look he could only interpret to mean _stop flirting with Cartman in my car, you weirdo._ Kenny gave them both a smile that meant something similar, if somewhat more amused. Sometimes Kyle really hated the ability his friends had to see directly through him. “How’s Hanukkah going?” Kenny asked.

“Fuck you, Kenny!” Cartman snapped.  “You only asked him that because you knew that I was going to!”

His friends all looked at him with wide eyes, silently questioning his outburst.

“You were planning what to say to Kyle when he got in the car?” Kenny asked. “Dude, so gay.”

“Yeah. That is pretty fucking gay, Cartman.” Kyle agreed, but his smile made it clear that he didn’t mind. “Hanukkah’s been great.”

Cartman blushed and grumbled momentarily, propping his arm on the car door. He put his cheek in his hand, squishing his face into a pout.

“God, I hate you guys.”

“Trust me: we know.” Kenny said. “But not even you can ruin my seasonal spirit today. I finally saved up enough money to buy my sister the perfect present.”

Cartman perked up at the mention of presents, his eyes glazing over with greed. Some things were never going to change.

“What are you gonna ge—?” Stan started to ask, only to be quickly interrupted.

“Speaking of presents, I have the greatest idea!” Cartman said

Stan wilted, and Kenny gave him a conciliatory smile. Kyle looked intrigued, jumping at the chance to either get in on the ground floor of Cartman’s latest business venture or to tear the concept to shreds.

“What’s your idea?” He asked.

Cartman’s face lit up the way it only did when discussing the prospect of making money. Kyle could never decide if he’d make a better business mogul or politician. Both, maybe.

“I’m gonna have people who get totally dumb gifts this year sell them to me, and then I’ll resell them on eBay for double the price! Pretty genius, right?”

 Kyle didn’t allow him a moment of pleasure, succinctly wiping the smirk off his face with a prideful scoff.

“Cartman, that is so dishonest!” He scolded. “Why should you be perpetuating misery during the goddamn holidays? This is just another one of your crooked fucking schemes to fuck people over!”

As he voiced his indignation, Stan pulled into the school parking lot and cruised into his regular spot. Cartman smiled ominously, bringing his face in closer to Kyle’s until their noses were practically touching. Baffled, Kyle drew back.

“You know you’re always welcome to take part in my crooked schemes, Kyle.” He said, his voice sliding into a tone that could only be described as flirtatious.

Kyle only wished he could’ve had the foresight to look away, because hearing Cartman’s voice like that while making direct eye contact with him was enough tomake his face turn a shade darker.

“Cartman, I—“

The sound of the first period bell rang suddenly, saving Kyle from having to finish his sentence. This was good, considering he didn’t know what he was going to say. _Cartman, I wish you’d shut up for once? Cartman, if you don’t move in two seconds I’ll have no choice but to pin you to these seats and kiss you?_ At this point, both things were equally accurate.

Kenny turned to look at them from the passenger’s seat, shaking his head disbelievingly.

“You guys are too much.” He said when the moment passed, unbuckling hisseatbelt as he spoke. “Way too fucking much.             

                                                     ••••

Cartman really didn’t understand how Kyle managed to be so goddamn perfect all the time. He was unbearably attractive, for one thing, which had been a source of torment to Eric for many years. Years of basketball had given him a toned physique, and some genetic miracle had gifted him only the best physical attributes from both of his parents: his mother’s auburn eyes and his father’s facial structure.

And it wasn’t just his appearance, either. Kyle had always had the intellectual precision of a genius and the wisdom of someone far older than himself. It was a quality Cartman always admired, though he’d been guilty in the past of yanking Kyle around like some kind of intellectual stimulation yo-yo.

He’d always known that he needed Kyle, in whatever fucked up way he was capable of forming a connection with anyone. The rush of being around, talking to, and fighting with Kyle was something he craved like a drug. He had feelings for and about Kyle that he didn’t understand and that he’d never felt for anyone else.

Maturity and therapeutic breakthroughs had brought with them clarity. Along with a plethora of other things, it had been therapy that introduced him to the idea that his feelings for Kyle might run deeper than rivalry.

When you talk about someone at length during nearly every session, he soon realized, psychiatrists begin to get ideas. Ideas about love and repression and all manner of things that Cartman had no interest in discussing with anyone. So what if all of his daydreams since forever had featured Kyle? As far as he was concerned, that was totally irrelevant. 

It was months before he was able to accept that yes, he was gay, and yes, he had probably spent a long time pining after Kyle without really knowing it. It sucked, but he got used to it. His unsung feelings would just have to remain unsung forever. That was simply the status quo.

Or at least it had been. Then, over the summer, everything seemed to change. Suddenly, Kyle was going out of his way to spend time alone with him. He was laughing at Cartman’s jokes when they weren’t even funny. It was strange behavior, to say the least, and it did not adhere to the status quo. Not even a little bit. 

Butters and Kenny had both been prodding him in Kyle’s direction as of late, insisting that he had a shot, but Cartman still had trouble believing that. Unreciprocated feelings were painful, but they were a reality he’d always lived in. Until now.

Until he’d gotten this stupid thought about Hanukkah. If he could get Kyle just the right gift, he reasoned, and give it to him in just the right way, then maybe everything would work out. It didn’t even close to being the craziest plot he’d ever concocted, but somehow it terrified him more than any other scheme ever had. 

And it was that insane hope and fear that had landed him here, in his room with Butters on a Saturday morning when he’d rather be doing, like, anything else.

“I can’t get Kyle just anything, you fuckin’ dick!” Cartman exclaimed, “I’m trying to impress him!” 

It took all of Butters’ willpower not to roll his eyes, but somehow he managed. As one could imagine, being the person Cartman confided in for everything could be unbelievably aggravating sometimes.

“I’m not gonna help you if you’re bein’ an asshole to me, Eric!” He said firmly.

Cartman took a breath, trying his best to recall the mantra that one of his many therapists had taught him about controlling anger with focused breathing. He knew he would never be the most patient person in the world, but he could at least attempt to not alienate the few friends he still had.

“I’m sorry, Butters.” He said, his voice robotic sounding as it might have been if he was reading a script.

“I was inconsiderate and rude, and I want to apologize for that. Do you think you can forgive me?”

Butters would probably have been well within his rights to stomp out of Cartman’s bedroom and never come back, but that just wasn’t the kind of person he was. So he just sighed deeply, shook his head, and forgave him. It was far from the first time, and it almost certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“I can forgive you Eric.” He said tiredly. Cartman beamed.

 “Great. Now let’s get to work deciding what the fuck I’m gonna get Kyle for Hanukkah.”

Butters sighed again. This seemed like a project that was going to last all day, unfortunately. Cartman’s plans usually took at least a few hours, and plans about Kyle were the worst. 

This one had been going on since before Hanukkah even started, and now the holiday was almost over. Butters had listed off a million perfectly good gift ideas in the last eight days, but Cartman hadn’t deemed any of them good enough for Kyle.

Butters seriously didn’t understand all the hype around Kyle. He was average looking at best, and he was so arrogant. Sure he was smart, but did he have to be so self righteous all the time? Stan and Kenny were both more attractive than he was, and they didn’t think they were God’s gift to Colorado like Kyle seemed to.

Of course, those things made no difference to Cartman. He had chosen Kyle from the minute he laid eyes on him, and he’d been choosing Kyle ever since. No one could ever dream of competing. 

“Well, how much do you like him?” Butters asked.

He already knew the answer, but he figured he deserved to mess with Eric just a little after all the shit he got from him over the years. Cartman glowered.

“Why the fuck does that matter?” He demanded. “A present’s a goddamn present, just help me!” 

Butters tried to hide his amusement, schooling his face into a solemn expression.

“I can’t help you unless I know how serious your feelings are, Eric. On a scale of one to ten, how strongly do you feel about Kyle?”

Visibly flustered, Cartman turned his face away and murmured something under his breath.

“I couldn’t quite hear that, Eric.” Butters said. “Say it again?”

Cartman turned back, completely aware now of what Butters was doing, and glared fiercely at him. 

“You already know its a fuckin’ ten, Butters!” 

Butters felt a twinge of guilt for making him say it, but he also thought it was good that Cartman had confessed the full extent of his feelings out loud to someone who wasn’t his therapist.

“Don’t worry, Eric.” He assured him with a pat on the shoulder. “We’ll find Kyle the perfect gift, I promise! When does Hanukkah end again?” 

Cartman grimaced.

“Tomorrow.”

Butters cringed, wondering if now was too early to revoke his promise. How in the hell were they supposed to find Kyle’s present in the next 36 hours?

“That’s plenty of time!” He lied. “You know what the most important thing about presents is, Eric?” 

Cartman looked thoughtful for a moment, squinting his eyes as he considered the question. 

“Getting something totally sweet.” He finally settled on. “Not some stupid crap like a calendar or socks.”

Butters nodded encouragingly.

“Okay, close enough! So how can you ensure that the person you’re buyin’ the present for thinks it’s-uh-totally sweet?” He asked, rubbing his knuckles together nervously. 

Cartman looked baffled. Butters thought he was about to yell or call him stupid, but then a light seemed to go on in his mind.

“By getting them something you already know they like!” He said excitedly.

“Right!” Butters said. “Or by doing something you know would be meaningful to them. It shows that they matter to you, and sometimes a nice g-gesturecan be just as touching as a present.”

“A gesture?” Cartman asked. “That’ll be-oh! Butters, I’m a genius! I know exactly what I can get Kyle for Hanukkah! Come on, we have to go to the mall right now!” 

Butters grinned, reaching out to high-five him as Cartman leapt up. Thank god, he thought to himself. At this rate, he might even make it home in time for dinner. 

                                                    ••••

Kyle sat in his living room on Sunday evening, watching some old detective show and half regretting not going out with the rest of his family. His mom, brother, and even his dad had gone out to dinner, but Kyle had elected to stay in. He was tired, he told them, and there was lots of food in the house.

He’d planned to spend an evening alone, but this was soon interrupted by the blaring sound of the doorbell. His first thought was that it might be one of the ladies from his church bringing over some nice dish as a Hanukkah gift. It was the last of the eight days, after all.

“Coming!” He called.

He stood from his seat on the couch and began walking toward the front entrance. When he reached it he was startled by the figure he saw outside, hunched over slightly and shivering in the snow. Urgently, Kyle swung open the door.

It was Cartman. He stood on the front steps with some kind of bag on his back and rocked nervously on his heels. Kyle noticed a flush pooling in his cheeks and felt a tug of feeling in his own stomach.

“Are you...okay, Cartman?” He asked, unbothered by the obvious worry in his voice. 

“I’m fine, Kyle.” He said, but his voice was stiff and awkward.

Nervous energy was rolling off of him in waves, causing Kyle’s heart to react with anxious, accelerated beating. Cartman had clearly come here with some purpose in mind.

“Come inside, dude.” Kyle said gently. “You must be freezing.”

When Cartman only stared at him hesitantly, Kyle grabbed him onto his wrist. Pulling him inside by the arm, he slammed the door and shut out the cold, effectively flooding them both with warmth. 

Oddly, Cartman made no move to remove any of his winter clothing. He only stared forward, apparently frozen with fear. Kyle furrowed his brows and cocked his head to the side.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked. “My family isn’t home, so you don’t have to worry about them overhearing us if you have something important to say.”

Cartman nodded and frowned, his eyes flitting around the Broflovski’s front room despite the fact that he’d seen it a million times.

“What’s in the bag?” Kyle asked, eyeing the gray backpack that was now slung across one shoulder.

The question seemed to break Cartman out of whatever trance he’d been in and he tore the bag off, setting it on the coffee table.

“I brought presents!” He said suddenly, as though he’d only just remembered why he was there.

Kyle hovered over his shoulder curiously as he bent down, fishing through the bag and pulling out a poorly wrapped present. He shoved it into Kyle’s hands unceremoniously, looking at him in nervous expectation.

“You got me something for Hanukkah?” Kyle asked, and he felt his heart swell with appreciation.

He and his friends had always been inconsistent with their gifts. They’d usually get each other presents on their respective birthdays, but holidays were always a mixed bag. Last year, for example, Kyle had gotten everyone their own personal planner to keep up with school work. 

“Yeah.” Cartman said shyly. “Only one, though. I would’ve gotten eight, but I couldn’t really afford to—“

“Shut up.” Kyle interrupted him. “I’m prettysure Stan got me an Arby’s gift card last year, so this is more than enough.”

He inspected the present in hands and noted that whatever was inside was soft. Some article of clothing, maybe? He tore open the wrapping paper, tossing the scraps on the table, and revealed a baby blue sweater.

“I could tell you were totally jealous of my super cool sweater the other day, so...” Cartman said bashfully, crossing his arms.

Kyle laughed as he examined the gift, looking closely at the picture. It was of a cat wearing yarmulke, and underneath it read “Happy Hanu-cat”. 

“Of course you had to get me the most obnoxious gift possible.” He said, folding the sweater into a square. 

“You don’t like it?” Cartman asked defensively, some mix of anger and disappointment creeping into his voice.

“No, no!” Kyle assured him. “I think it’s great, Cartman. I love it. Thank you.” 

A sheepish smile formed on Cartman’s face, and he shrugged.

“I know you’re too lame to buy any awesome sweaters on your own,” he explained, “and besides, now we can match.”

The image of he and Cartman strolling around in matching holiday sweaters sprung to his mind, and he couldn’t help a second burst of laughter from spilling out of his mouth. But even as he laughed, a memory lingered in the back of his mind of Cartman and his first girlfriend wearing matching clothes every day for a week. That relationship had been problematic to say the least, and it had ended a million years ago, but the recollection made Kyle think that maybe matching outfits were Cartman’s idea of romance.

“Oh my god, dude.” Kyle said, shaking his disbelief. “Matching fucking sweaters.”

Cartman frowned at this response, but before he could get anymore insecure about his gift giving skills he realized that Kyle had opened his arms and was looking at him with a shy, awkward smile. 

Cartman hesitated only briefly before falling into them, his arms coming to rest around Kyle’s midsection as he hid his face in Kyle’s shoulder. 

Any stress Kyle had been feeling about holiday shopping or his upcoming midterms just melted away, and immediately Cartman became the only thing he could focus on. He was soft and warm, and burying his face in Eric’s jacket just felt right.

He heard Cartman take a big, shuddering breath, like this hug was having a huge impact on him emotionally. Kyle understood the sound to be a indication of their shared catharsis: all the feelings flowing through them at once, then being released into the air around them.

“I have more presents.” Cartman said quietly, nearly whispering. Kyle pulled away to look at him.

“But I thought you said you only brought one.” He said confusedly, stepping taking a couple of steps back. 

Cartman reached down into the bag again and pulled out a significantly smaller package, setting it into the palm of Kyle’s hand. 

“Not everything is about you, Kyle.” He said facetiously. “I brought these for your family.”

Kyle’s mouth fell open in surprise. His family? The thought of Cartman, walking around the mall as he searched for the perfect gift for Kyle’s mother was almost too endearing to handle. Talk about turning over a new leaf. 

“Are you being serious?” He asked.

“Yes, Kyle! God, are you deaf? Those are earrings for your mom.” 

Cartman gestured to the package in Kyle’s hand, clearly embarrassed. Kyle imagined that it must feel strange, buying Hanukkah presents for the family of your former arch nemesis. All at once, the days of fighting with Cartman felt so far away. 

“I have something else, too. For your brother.” 

He went for the bag a third time, this time bringing out a small bag with red and green tissue paper stuffed lazily on top. It was obvious that Cartman had prepared the gifts without help from Liane or Butters. 

“Its this new video game I know you guys don’t have yet.” He explained. “You can play it too, but it’s really for Ike—that annoying little asshole.”

Kyle didn’t let that comment bother him. He had seen Cartman and Ike interact on more than one occasion, and they actually got along quite nicely. Surprising, considering Cartman’s rocky history with Broflovskis.

“I didn’t get your dad anything, because...” He trailed off, hoping Kyle would understand his meaning. He did.

“Fuck him.” He said resolutely. 

“Exactly.” Cartman agreed. “I didn’t get your dad anything because fuck him. I knew you probably wouldn’t want me to anyway.” 

Kyle nodded furiously and went in for another hug. He wrapped his arms around Cartman’s neck and pulled him in, but this time the embrace only lasted a few seconds before he pulled back.

“What compelled you to do this, dude?” He asked, almost breathless with astonishment.

Cartman was obviously uncomfortable with the emotional turn the conversation was taking. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his coat and avoided eye contact.

“What, buy you gifts and stuff? Its no big deal.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow at him. He was amazed that even after all these years of Kyle keeping up with every bullshit scheme he ever pulled, Cartman still thought he’d be able to manipulate him by doing something as simple as ignoring a question. He seemed to understand what Kyle was getting at without him having to say it because he took a deep breath, preparing himself.

“So I was talking with Butters the other day about, like, my feelings toward you or whatever. Not like _feelings_ , feelings or anything, but, you know. Feelings.”

Kyle felt a buzz of nervous excitement in his stomach at those words, and he stepped a little closer into Cartman’s bubble. 

“Feelings?” He prompted. Cartman nodded.

“Yes, feelings. Well, Butters asked some dumb question the other day about how strongly I felt about you on a scale of one to ten.” 

Kyle held his breath despite knowing what answer was coming. He had never experienced this panicked sensation that came with putting his feelings at stake.

“And what did you say?” He asked.

Cartman started to speak, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. The moment was terrifying enough already without an additional layer of vulnerability. 

“That’s confidential information, Kyle.” He deflected.

Amazingly, Kyle was too distracted by nerves to pick a fight with him. He just rolled his eyes, smiling slightly. 

“What else did you and Butters talk about it?” He asked quietly. Cartman looked wary, but decided to respond anyway. 

“Well, Kyle, not that it’s any of your business, but he and I agreed that if you really care about someone, you should probably do things to show them that. I guess you could argue that this sweater I got you is one of those things.”

Kyle couldn’t have kept the smile off of his face if he wanted to. He almost couldn’t believe that this was all happening in real life and not just some bizarrely realistic fever dream.

“But why did you get this stuff for my mom and my brother?” He wondered out loud.

He also made the decision to close the space between them, taking one of Cartman’s hands in his own and holding it between them both. Now the interaction had officially crossed into more-than-just-friends territory.

“I know how important Ike and your mom are to you.” Cartman said quietly, his eyes focused on the tips of his boots. 

He stopped talking, seized by fear and embarrassment, but Kyle gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. The gesture was meant to mean something like _don’t worry, keep going_.

“I just wanted to show you that the things that are important to you are important to me, too.” Cartman said. “Because I really, really care about you.”

And just like that, Kyle felt that old yearning to kiss him senseless. It was the same feeling he’d felt that afternoon in July, while they were in the middle of playing video games. The only difference this time was that he acted on it. 

He put his hands on either side of Cartman’s face and steered them toward each other, connecting their lips in an explosion of courage. Cartman didn’t kiss back. In fact, he didn’t move at all. It was like a computer glitching, the way he went all still and silent. Concerned, Kyle pulled back.

“Was that not okay?” He asked. “I thought you were giving me signals, but I’m so—“

The sound of Cartman’s hand slapping his own forehead stopped Kyle from continuing.

“Fuck! Goddamnit! Sorry. I just—can you do that again?” Cartman said. “You have to warn me next time you’re gonna pull some shit like that, Kyle!”

Kyle subconsciously shifted into his go-to arguing position: his arms crossed and his head cocked to one side in incredulity.

“Warn you?” Kyle parroted. “Imagine how lame that would’ve been, dude! I was trying to be spontaneous.” 

Cartman shook his head, relaxing considerably. Playing devil’s advocate to everything Kyle said was a role he knew by heart. 

“Spontaneous does not equal romantic, Kyle.” He chastised, his voice filling with false sincerity. “What we really need here is some mistletoe.”

He peered behind Kyle then spun around, apparently searching for any sprigs of mistletoe that The Broflovskis might have lying around the house. 

“Mistletoe is a Christmas thing, idiot.” Kyle said, but his face had softened back into a smile. “And thanks for the presents. I really, really care you too.”

He snaked his arms around Cartman’s waist and looked into his eyes, pleased to see a flicker of joy reflected in them. 

“On a scale of one to ten?”

“Ask me again after you let me kiss you for real.” 

And then they were kissing again, this time with both participants contributing the same amount of energy. Kyle could feel the sheer emotion radiating from both of them as the kissing became more fervent, and soon they were both sprawled out on the living room couch. 

Cartman was over the moon. He was kissing Kyle! _Kyle_. The person he’d been wanting to kiss since he knew what kissing was. His heart soared with excitement as he let Kyle press him deeper into the couch cushions, his weight resting comfortably on Cartman’s. 

Somewhere amidst his own ecstatic, frazzled thoughts, Kyle found a vague memory about that fantasy he’d had about the blanket and the fireplace. Sparing a quick glance toward the front window, he wondered how long all of that snow on the ground would keep his family away. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not Jewish, so I apologize if I got anything wrong about Hanukkah!


End file.
